


Want What I Want

by unsettled



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Kinktober, M/M, Selfishness, Topping from the Bottom, pillow princess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26890516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsettled/pseuds/unsettled
Summary: Tony know just how to get Peter to do all the work.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 10
Kudos: 112
Collections: Starker Festivals Kinktober 2020, Unsettled's Kinktober 2020





	Want What I Want

Tony's flopped down on the bed when Peter finds him, sprawled on his front and contemplating never moving again. It's not that he hurts, necessarily, or is tired, but that he just doesn't have any energy.

"Hey," Peter says, crawling up next to him. Kisses his neck, Peter’s hands sliding down his back. "Tired?"

Tony groans. "Tired enough," he mumbles.

"Too tired?"

It's a delicate little question, and Tony knows what Peter isn't saying. He turns his head enough that he can see Peter. "Not if you're up to it," he says.

Peter smiles, ducking his head to hide it against Tony's shoulder. "Yeah," he says. "I'll take care of you," and god, he loves that Peter can do this for him.

Here, with Peter, he doesn't have to be Tony Starktm.

Because Tony Stark fucks. Men or women isn't the important part to the image; it's what he does. It's that Tony Stark takes what he wants in bed—you'll have a good time too, don’t worry—and what Tony Stark wants is to fuck, is to get sucked off, is to have a good time. Be in control of it.

And it's not  _ wrong. _

But it's not right, either.

Tony Starktm doesn't  _ get  _ fucked. He can, he has, but it's often more trouble than it's worth, and the people most willing to take him up on that are riskier. It's almost never quite right; it's hard to really enjoy yourself when you're wondering if that one's going to decide this means Tony wants it rough, or this one's thinking about the payout they can get for a tell all. Almost never quite right because they still don't get it.

Peter rubs his fingers over Tony's hole, slick and slow, drawing it out because Tony likes it. He knows Tony well enough by now, knows Tony's body well enough, that he can make it take as long as Tony wants, can make a good fingering the main event if Tony's so inclined. He's got beautiful fingers for it, sliding so easily into Tony; slender but long, and it's never been about the girth for Tony. Peter's cock is much the same, just made for fucking him.

It's pretty selfish of him, Tony thinks as he moans into the pillow. Incredibly selfish, actually, because Tony knows what he wants and he's not always sure Peter does. Peter wants to make Tony happy, wants to feel like he did good and made Tony feel even better, but is that really about what Peter wants? Is it really fair for Tony to take advantage of that and let Peter focus entirely on Tony's pleasure, to the exclusion of all else?

Oh, it's not, he knows it's not; he just doesn't care as much as he should.

Peter rolls him over and Tony goes with it, limply, sprawling out. He gazes up at Peter and Peter smiles, soft and sweet and happy. Leans down and kisses Tony just as nicely as he catches Tony's wrists, drawing Tony's hands up above his head. Just loosely, not to pin him or change how he's laying; no, it's permission to leave them there, to not even have to think about touching Peter. Tony sighs against Peter's lips. "Come on, sweetheart. Not so slow this time."

"'kay," Peter murmurs, kissing him again, and then he's scooting back, his hands sliding under Tony's ass and shifting him, positioning him just right to sink into Tony in one long, perfect thrust. Tony arches into it, his eyes closing as his breath catches; fuck, that's good.

Not so slow is still pretty slow, Tony taking the time to savor the feel of Peter fucking him like that, the sweet slide of his cock. Peter's got Tony's legs caught up over his arms, Tony not even having to deal with that either, and he's thrusting forward in little increments, watching Tony. Waiting for Tony's word. "Little higher," Tony tells him, and Peter shifts again, tucking Tony's legs closer to his chest and bending over him. Tony shakes his head, the slightest of movements, but Peter gets it. Pushes forward a little more, and christ,  _ fuck. _

"Right there," Tony says, even though he doesn't have to; Peter knows exactly what it means when Tony groans like that, when Tony can't stop himself from grabbing at the pillowcase. "Yeah," Tony gasps, "fuck, right there Peter. Just like that, baby."

Peter's gotten so much better at this, at being able to give Tony a good fuck. Come so far from the kid who'd come in five minutes, tops, and even if it's easy enough for Peter to get hard again, his embarrassment could really kill the mood, put Tony right back in the role he'd been trying to escape. That's not something Tony even has to worry about anymore. Fuck— like this, Tony doesn't have to worry about anything except how he wants it.

Harder, he decides, and— he can come like this, but not tonight. "Want your hand, nice and slow," Tony says, "and fuck me harder." Peter moans softly and stills for a second, sorting himself out so he can get his hand on Tony's cock, get it wrapped around him and still be able to fuck him like Tony wants.

He settles back into the rhythm of it so easily, his hand sliding up and down Tony's cock slow and tight and so good, dragging his palm over the tip every few strokes. His cock fucking into Tony harder, not faster but harder, enough that his skin smacks loudly against Tony's ass; Peter leans forward a little more, flexible enough to do so without changing the angle, and kisses Tony's neck. "God, Peter," Tony moans, "perfect, baby, just— fuck, don't stop, keep—"

It's perfect when his orgasm hits him too, the shuddering, spreading wave that means Peter balanced things just right. It’s perfect too the way Peter keeps fucking him though it, his hand going faster, looser. Fucks him a little slower, steady, keeping Tony coming, keeping him caught up right on that edge for so long, god, right up until it's too much, until Tony's too sensitive; Tony doesn't even have to say a thing, just make that sharper groan, almost a whine, for Peter to still. Peter takes his hand off Tony's cock and slides out, slow, slow enough for it to still feel good. Good for Peter too, judging by the way he moans, but Tony's done.

He opens his eyes enough to see Peter, to watch while Peter kneels between Tony's legs and jerks himself off. He likes to watch Peter like this, that little edge of desperation, that want that he's been holding back for Tony's sake; he's fucking stunning as he gets closer to coming, red all down his chest and panting, looking at every inch of Tony. "Tony," he whispers, "can— can I—"

"Sure," Tony says, and then Peter's groaning, shooting come all over Tony's stomach. Tony loves the way he looks like this just as much; "Come here," he says, and Peter falls forward onto him, his breath still stuttering as he kisses Tony, clumsy.

Peter will get up in a few minutes, Tony knows. Will catch his breath and fetch something to clean them up with and curl up with Tony for the night, will haul Tony half on top of him and wrap his arms around him, even if Tony is too heavy, the casing on his chest too pointy and hard for Peter to really be comfortable. He'll do it anyway, because when Tony's in this kind of mood he wants to be held close like that, wants to be an inconvenience and kept close anyway.

But right now, right this second Peter gets to bask in knowing he catered to Tony perfectly, and Tony— 

Tony gets exactly what he wants.


End file.
